Dimensions Unclear
by thetruemethatihide
Summary: Jack Heidrich eighteenth birthday has just arrived. He is plagued by his past since he was ten. His ghosts haunt him and depression and anxiety has a grip on him, yet he struggles to find a way out of the life that he has known for eight long years.
1. Chapter 1

People take death for granted. They watch it on the television. They kill in their games. Yet even if they have seen or committed the act in a virtual setting, they never have the guts to do the act with their own hands.

I killed my first man when I was 10. I stared into his eyes and I could swear I could see his soul screaming at me. Those eyes continued to scream at me as we put chains around him and threw him off the port side of the ship. I walked over to the side of the boat and looked as his last usage of strength was wiggling around hoping for escape.

I threw up. I threw up, and I wept. Captain Arsenault walked over to me and slapped me across the face telling me that I'm part of this life and that I will never escape.

Over time, the acts made my soul grow colder. It became second nature to hear the pleads, the crying, the cursing. Over time, such acts became a sport. By the time I was 17 I had committed countless robberies, Smuggled millions of kilos of cocaine, meth, heroine, and other illegal substances. If my hands were stained with blood when I was 10 then they're drenched now.

I've always found it a curious thing that people say that if they haven't seen their loved one for a long time they forget their face, yet the people who I saw their last flashes of light leave their eyes I remember all of their faces. Not just in death but the smuggling of those being sent as slaves. Their faces haunt me in my sleep. Their shadows dance upon my bedroom walls.

I'm turning 18 today.

I stretched out on the fine linen of my new bed. It's been a long time since I was able to sleep. No dreams, no nightmares just empty sleep. Lifting myself up I look around my room. I still live with my parents who are out of the house most of the time leaving me to my own. I finally talk myself out of the sleep trance I was in and walked to the bathroom. The bottle of pills was still laying where I left them. Sleeping pills that the psycho analyst gave me for the multiple anxiety attacks of the nights. He says anxiety but I believe that it was the ghosts of the past coming to haunt me. My hands begin to tremble, and times when I remember the past I weep. I wept so hard I had thought my heart would stop. They say nothing is worse than being alone. I say nothing is worse than being alone with your ghosts.

The ghosts follow me often. I always see their shadows at the corner of my eyes or the not so shy ghosts would just boldly show themselves to me. The marks I left on their bodies while they were alive still showed in death. Today of my birthday I guess they all decided to pay me a visit. I was eating my breakfast when I noticed the first one to pop up. A little girl that we had kidnapped and sold. She couldn't be no more than 8 but the stare she gave me showed me an old woman filled with sorrow looking at me. At one time I use to try to ignore the ghosts but when it's obvious that they're there or you're just crazy one will begin to entertain them. Yet, they never spoke. Just stared with judging eyes. They could touch though, and they made sure that you could feel it. Leaving no marks but the ones imprinted in your soul. I spent nights being tortured by such entities. The girl still stared, standing close enough to touch my thigh while I am sitting.

The next was a baby. This one was from a time when a pregnant woman was out for a stroll and we came across her. We at first were not going to do anything but one of the ship hands named Mark ran up to us saying how he's made a deal with a Cuban drug lord. The lady had overheard and such was protocol to keep our business a secret. The higher ups knew how to keep themselves well hidden. So it was either her and her unborn or us. I'm ashamed to say we chose us.

One after the other showed up. Almost as if to wish their killer a happy birthday. After the last of them showed up. The first one that I had witness. The man covered in chains dripping wet. His body damage beyond recognition because of being in water for so long. I knew who he was, however. I could never forget. This man who I had watched. His only crime against the crew and I was that he wouldn't make a payment for the protection we offered. All of us should've been thrown in prison but police are just men, and all men can be bought, or persuaded to look the other way. The man in the chains kept his gaze on me. That same look in his eyes as we pushed him off.

An hour or so went by as I sat there staring at all of them when one by one they began to leave. I was alone again and getting up I left for the bathroom... I threw up again and wept. I lifted myself up and rest my hands on the sink. I looked up to stare at my face. The face showed someone who you would never recognize as someone emerged in such things. White, clean, no scars, and grey eyes that suggested innocence. I grabbed my hair gel and slicked my jet black hair back. I then grabbed the trimmers and trimmed the parts of my gote that was untamed. I walked back to my room that suggested mediocre proportions. Nothing to suggest that I was part of a life that would require at least the sentence of a life in prison. I laid back in bed. Wanting to feel that nothing again. To just drift back off to somewhere where there were no memories, no pain, no regret.

I dreamt of hell and my only savior was my phone ringing. I answered.

"Yo bitch where the fuck you at? It's 1 o clock in the afternoon and we need you at the docks. The shipment of wild flower is in." The caller was Tyler. A friend in high school that had gotten trapped as well in this life. Wild flower was our code word for acid.

"Don't call me Bitch you black ass motherfucker. Today is my birthday any way why the fuck would I go to that hell hole to pick up some small game shit?" I retorted back.

"Yo bro, I can do whatever I want you short ass honkey motherfucker. But the captain wants you here. You're the best at making deals and shit. God knows it's not for your fighting skills." He was right. I sucked at fighting... Killing I was good at. Manipulation even better. The crew uses Norse gods as our code names. I was given the nicknamed Loki when I tricked the Somalian cartel to give up 50,000 grams of coke to us. I had promised that they would get the better half of the deal. The better half was their whole cartel being gathered up in one placed and killed. To me that was a pretty good deal.

"Aight.. Fine I'll see you in an hour." I hung up. I laid there for at least 10 minutes not wanting to go. Every cell in my body seemed to be in protest, but I got up and went outside to my car. A small silver Honda Civic. Nothing to suggest that I'm making a lot of money but nothing to suggest that I wasn't making no money.

The drive there was always a tedious expedition. Having to weave through the Panama City traffic was always a pain in my ass. Florida drivers always seemed to be off in space when they drive, never paying attention to their surroundings. It pisses me off at how innocent they were. It amazes me that so many people can be so blind to the evils that happen all around them. When I finally made it to the ports, I was already in a foul mood. When I saw who I'll be making a deal with, I fell into an even worse foul mood.

"Thomas. Fucking. Benedick! You back stabbing english prick!" I shouted to the man as I walked to him. I'm a measly 5 foot 8, but compared to Thomas I was a fucking giant. The man barely passed for four feet. Thomas, as most English men are more or less willing to admit, is a prick. The type of guy who if offered a few hundred dollars. Hell! Even five bucks would throw you under the bus. It was one of the few times I almost got caught. Not by the police or any other federal agency but by the Taliban. We were transporting heroine from Afghanistan and their overzealous religious beliefs didn't like the idea infidels messing with their goods. Thomas was bought out by them.

"Listen, Jack. You know quite well that a business man such as myself will take any opportunity to pounce on the best deal. The Taliban offered more than you could give." Thomas said in his thick London accent. Almost condescending like.

"Well Thomas I know what they offered, they offered less than what we were going to give you rat- faced short piece of shit. What? They offered you some percentage of the trade?" I asked knowing full well they wouldn't do such a thing to a white infidel.

"In fact they did my dear Jackie boy. I converted to their religion. Though not really. My God is the cash that you're about to give me."

"They actually offered you a fucking deal like that? You sold your soul to a god you don't even believe in."

"Not everyone is as superstitious as you. I on the other hand listen to reason."

Reason. There was no reason, no logic, no love in this world. Just whatever we want. So in essence I couldn't be mad at Thomas because he did exactly what I would've done. Take the better deal, but I would never sell myself to a god. I'm haunted by too many spirits. To begin to believe in such a thing would mean that I would take responsibility for the things I have committed. I know this about myself. I do not hide it. It terrifies me to think that any God has been watching me. Yet, I guess I do believe in a god. If money was Thomas' God, then I'm sure the ghost of those I hurt are mine.

"Alright Thomas. Let's begin the trade."

"Now wait jack. We still need to wait for the big boys to come."

"Call me Loki while we do business, you idiot. You don't know who's listening."

End of part one.


	2. Chapter 2

There are awkward silences between you and the individual you hate. Almost as if a spark would appear it would light the tension between the two of you in flames. The arriving party was taking too long. The longer I waited with Thomas the more anxious I became, something was wrong. I could feel it. Capt. Arsenault was never late; in fact, I was surprised that I didn't see him already here when I arrived. Also, why would Tyler call me? I didn't think much of it when I was in my drowsy state, but the man was never the go to guy to pass plans across. Something was wrong.

"Thomas what the fuck is going on?" I looked over to him and asked bluntly.

"I don't know Jackie... But I feel it too. Either we arrived too early... Or we are not in the right place." Thomas replied back.

"No, we are in the right place." I'm getting nervous now. When I get nervous I shake. Not too much to be noticed but enough for me to cross my arms to make it appear that I was calm. When these types of deals go down, you are never late. Sends bad vibes to everyone. I checked my watch, already 1500. I look around at our surroundings. We were on the docks in between my crews' boat and another shrimping boat.

"I think we should leave." Thomas quickly said.

"I agree."

"Leaving so soon boys? You couldn't wait just a few more minutes?" A man in a suit said coming down the dock where we stood. His voice was shockingly quiet yet loud. Almost like a whisper of a lover to the yelling of a drill instructor. It came from everywhere but could've also came from just inside the head. I've never felt such a thing in my life until now. The man was deathly white. Wearing an old black top hat and what appeared to a type of suit you would see in a 60s movie. I could barely see the man's eyes because of the tilt of the hat.

"Who the fuck are you?" I said quickly almost releasing the nervous tone in the back of my throat.

"No need to be worried Loki, or should I say Jack Heidrich." The man said.

"How do you know me?" I asked.

"Well you see boy I've had my eyes on you for some time now. Especially since the Somalian incident. A whole cartel just vanishing was a true work of art." This man knew too much, and I knew too little of who he was.

"How do you know this?" I asked, though when I asked it sounded stupid.

"There's no need for you to know how I know but that I do know. Everything in fact. Even the ghosts that haunt you at night." With that he pulled out a 9 mm, and the fucker shot me in the chest.

I can hear Thomas and the man having a conversation. Thomas saying the same things that I had said "how do you know" and then a gunshot and within my blurred vision I saw Thomas fall. I listened to the waves behind me and the seagulls. It surprised me how much I was going to miss living, yet this was the more peaceful way to die. Better to listen to the waves crash than listen to your body age in a jail cell. My fingers grew colder. My vision began to gloss over. I didn't feel any pain; in fact, I didn't feel anything but floating. Before I had lost consciousness I saw the girl come into view. She was standing above me and for the first time I saw her smile. Apparently she was happy that she would see me in whatever after life soon. However, she quickly dropped her smile when another figure came up behind her. Shrouded in a dark smoke I could barely make out a human figure. The eyes of the creature glowed yellow. The creature picked the girl up and threw her off in a different direction. It stood above me looking down at the wound in my chest. It placed its hand on where I was shot and the touch of it caused such a flash of pure agony I didn't know what to do. I have never felt such pain. I began to see clearly again and I could see that the creature was sucking himself into me. As the last of the smoke entered into me I saw the wound heal. My chest felt like it was on fire, and I blacked out.

"Wake up." Distant.

"Wake up." Closer.

"Wake up!" Loud. Too fucking loud.

"What?!" I asked and then startled up when I remember what had happened.

"Hey, he's alive!" It was Tyler.

"What?" I looked around. I was still at the docks but now it was night out. Thomas laid nearby me. Obviously dead. Whereas me, I was alive. I reached down and felt the hole in my shirt and could feel the dried blood. I quickly looked down tearing my shirt wider at where the bullet went through me and looked at my chest. Black veins went all around where the bullet should've been. I felt sick. None of this should be real yet here I was still alive meaning whatever the fuck that thing was had actually come and saved me.

"Look at the lucky bastard! Must've been a dud cause that looks like a nasty ass bruise." Matthew said. He was always the happiest of the bunch, however he also had a weird choice of weapons. He loves killing with a hammer. So we nicknamed him Thor. He cried when we had a hammer made for him that looked just like the one the Norse God uses. Such a gentle giant Matthew is.

" Ya must've been." I said still in shock at recent events.

"You were lucky that we came when we did." Tyler said to me.

"What the fuck do you mean? You're the one that called me!" I yelled at him.

"Bitch I never called you. It's your birthday so we all know you get moody as hell and want to be alone." Tyler said.

"Ya man, we still wanted to drop by and chill though. I even baked you a cake." Matthew said. I could see that he was more worried about his fucking cake than he was about me.

"What made you come out here then?" I asked.

"Daniel was in the boat when it happened." Tyler said. Daniel was the captain's son. Also my nephew. He just turned 10 this year.

"You're lucky nothing happened to my son, Jack." Captain Arsenault came out of the shadows. For being such a big man he could cover himself with shadows and never be seen. He terrified me more than any of the men here. He was 26. By the time he was 15 he was already covered in the tattoos. Reaching at 6 foot 8 inches and made from pure muscles would put terror in any man. Luckily however he is also a stupid man. Being well read and quick on my toes has always saved me when it comes to him.

"Listen Capt. It wasn't my intention to come here to get shot. I don't know who called but whoever the hell it was is going to pay." I didn't tell him about the smoke. I wanted to talk to Daniel first to see if the boy had seen anything. "Speaking of that Capt. Where is the boy?"

End of part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel was on his father's boat laid stretched out in the underneath cabin where a bed lays. He likes to come here often. When I asked the boy, why he comes here when we aren't around he told me it was to escape. He was too keen for his age. Knew too much of the world already. Capt. Used to be a religious man and go to church often. Until some priest fucker decided that he like Daniel. A little too much. Daniel was missing for three weeks. He was only 7 at the time. We spent so much energy trying to find him and the Capt. spent so much time praying in that cathedral. The priest would have the audacity to come with him and pray and comfort him while we looked for his son and my blood. By the time we found out he was in some cage in the underneath of the church... Well let's just say the priest is one of the few men I don't regret. The Capt. had his way with that bastard. A fathers' anger is something to not be trifled with. I asked the Capt. to leave him alive and to let me enjoy the priest's company for 6 weeks. Double the time he spent with Daniel, and at the end of it he could kill him however he pleased. The Capt. Obliged, and we rented out a storage area. For 6 weeks I did things to the priest that would make the evilest stammer and say "whoa that's fucked up!" When I returned the battered man back to the Capt. the Capt. had been brooding for 6 weeks. Unfortunately for the priest the Capt. had read about an old Viking ritual called the blood eagle. The victim of such a death sentence is tied between two posts. The executioner stands behind the man and opens his back and then very carefully breaking the ribs outwards leaving the lungs exposed. At which point you take the lungs and place them on the shoulders of the executed. The image looks like a bloody eagle.

"Daniel. I need to ask you some questions." I asked the boy who was laying on his back playing his ds.

"Busy." He said... Busy? You little shit.

"Hey!" I grabbed his ds and smashed it against the wall. "Tell me you're busy again and that will be your head!"

"No, you won't." He said it so calmly like he had no care in the world. He reached down in his cargo shorts pocket and pulled out his vista. "By the way you're getting me a new ds." Again the calmness. Unsettling.

"Alright, alright sorry. I'm still a little shaken up. I'll buy you a new one. Can you answer my questions while you play?"

"You died until that shadow came to you." Holy shit.

"So there was something that came then... Wait you saw a shadow? I saw smoke." He just shrugged like the details didn't matter, and he was right. He answered my most important question. Now for the next.

"The man wearing the suit and the one who shot the short shit. Where did he go?"

"Down the way he came, stupid." I'm going to smash his head...

"Alright. Thanks Daniel." I say agitated. Any more time talking to him he may end up dead.

"Oh uncle jack!" He called out to me before I left. I turn back around to look at him.

"The shadow or smoke as you call it. Well it was here before you got here. It spoke to me."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner!" I yelled rather too loudly.

"Because it made me nervous when it told me to say happy birthday to you and that your brother loves you."

I ran out of the boat then. My brother was killed just two years ago. Not by doing this life style but just bad health. I kept him away from all this, yet in all my protection an older brother can't save his twelve-year-old brother from tumors. His name was Christopher. I loved my brother. He gave me purpose. Where our older sister was barely around anymore, it was just me and him. Our parents work and travel often so we always had the house to ourselves. I loved the time I spent with him. The crew loved him too. Capt. respected that I wanted to keep this life secret because he wanted to keep it secret from Daniel. He understood how I felt.

I ran passed the crew. I ran past my car. I ran past the stores. I ran until I found myself in place I didn't recognize. All of this was too much. I was shot. I was resurrected by my presumed dead brother. Thomas is dead. The man in the suit is still out there. I don't I know what's going on anymore. Everything feels as if it's falling apart. I went up to the building I stopped by and rest my forehead on the wall trying to make sense of it all.

"So this is who you are." I spun around quickly to see Christopher standing there smiling the grin that he would always give. He didn't seem to have aged. The same boy I loved till he died. Dirty blonde hair, Skinny, and teeth that desperately needed braces like most preteens need.

"How... How the hell are you here?" I asked terrified to my core.

"Well technically I'm not. I'm inside you. I'm just projecting myself out here to something you can recognize... I spoke to them Jake. All the people you helped destroy. They whisper the name of Loki in the underworld like it's a curse."

"You think I don't know that!" I hissed now furious at myself for lashing out. "You think I don't see them every night in dreams? You think my soul hasn't suffered because of them?"

"Oh I know it has brother. I've seen you tossed in turn at night. I've seen you stare at the end of the barrel of the gun. Or when you stare at your bottle of meds, you wonder if you could end it. I also know what keeps you here. As much as they torment you now you are even more terrified of them when you go and meet them."

"Did you come here to haunt me as well? Now that you see what an utter piece of trash your brother is to society!" My voice was shaking and I'm holding back tears. The idea that my brother doesn't love me has stabbed more deeply than the eyes of that little girl.

"No you idiot. I've come to help you. Also, I don't hate you. I can hear your thoughts you know. I'm inside you. I can feel your emotions. As long as I'm with you the ghosts will not appear."

"You've come to help me? To keep me from hell? To live as a better man? What?!"

"To assist you in reaching the top."

"The. The top? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Watch the language. That's not how a future king speaks." He began to disappear "now head back to the docks. I'll lead you the way back."

End of part 3


End file.
